I generally go to my bank about once a month. I take all of my
receipts, enter them into my records, and go make my meager deposit. I
always look forward to the errand, and I always make a point to get
out of my car and go into the lobby.

The reason for my enjoyment is not the rush of money lust that comes
from seeing my holdings skyrocket. I am, after all, a professional
aikido instructor and mountains of gold are just not, at this time,
part of the bargain. No, my pleasure is very simple: the people there
are friendly.

Southerners in the United States have long had a reputation for
hospitality and open-handed friendliness. The city I live in --
Austin, Texas -- has had a particular reputation for being laid back
and easy going. Unfortunately all that is changing. Austin is now a
big city, and the South has lost some of its charm, even as it moves
toward cosmopolitanism and sheds some of its more dreadful (racist)
characteristics.

Anyway, the branch of my bank has managed to cultivate a remarkable
small town feel. One woman in particular knew me by name by the second
time I went in there. Now, every time I go there when she's on duty,
as soon as I step across the threshold I am met with her warm,
sincere, "Halloo Mr. Robertson!"

Makes me feel like a millionaire. Makes me feel special and
important. I secretly look for excuses to bring my friends along on
the errand so they can see my VIP treatment and marvel that maybe
there's something about me they never knew.

In reality, I'm not that kind of special. It's the woman behind the
counter who's the special one. From what I've observed, she treats
everyone that way. I don't mind that in the least. It's really nice to
go into a business establishment where we're all special, where we're
all wanted. Where are names matter, and they ask after our health and
interests.

So, why exactly am I bringing you this Kodak moment?

Well, aside from the feel-good warm fuzzies I get, the environment of
this bank really fascinates me. I am intrigued by the many ways in
which this behavior is a good investment for the establishment.

First, it costs nothing. And it generates huge customer loyalty. But
beyond being good business, it's also good security. It's good
self-defense.

In addition to all the cameras, safes, and vaults, this bank has a
human component to their security set up that they may not even be
aware of. By creating a culture where their tellers greet customers as
soon as they step into the lobby, they are creating a culture of
awareness. By enthusiastically announcing a customer's name, the
message is being broadcast to everyone in the vicinity that this
person is known, familiar.

The strangers get greeted warmly also, but the absence of the name
causes the other employees to glance up. If anything untoward were to
happen, probably the cameras would catch it all. But in this
environment, the human witnesses are always kept sharp by their
authentic hospitality.

Is it a cynicism on my part to see an ulterior motive for genuine
friendliness? Not at all. Self defense is a subtle and intricate art,
but it is easy to show that open, sincere good will is the best
practice of shodo o seizu there is. It stimulates awareness, which is
the first requisite for any successful defense strategy. It
establishes a connection which may allow for the direction of
energy. It frequently goes a long way to forestalling hostility. And
it helps with the cultivation of allies should things get out of hand.

Now, I seriously doubt the bank managers and employees have thought
all this through. But I'd be even more impressed if they had. I
suspect rather, that for whatever reason, they've created an
environment that is welcoming and friendly, and it's as simple as
that. Maybe they've discovered that they themselves are happier
working in such a place. That's not bad self defense either.

If I were the bank-robbing type, I can tell you that I wouldn't go
near this place. It's a pretty stupid idea to rob one's own bank
anyway, but this one has something going for it that many others
don't. I would never suggest that such a place is impervious, but I
can tell you the vibe is different there. There's goodness in the
atmosphere.

Doing what I do for a living, it's a basic reflex to scan a place when
I go in, to sniff it out, as it were. Convenience stores feel
different from coffee shops, and each one is different from the
other. Some places are more likely targets than others, and it's a
good thing to be sensitive to this. I like the way this bank lobby
feels.

So beyond the ego strokes that I get from some big city bank employee
knowing me by name, there is a deeper chord being struck. These people
are radiating a sense of safety and security. Nothing like that can
ever keep all forms of evil at bay, but it's still a really good
thing. An important thing. An intelligent and wise thing.

It's a very simple and easy thing, and it costs nothing. It's a thing
I wish that politicians and statesmen and generals and security forces
everywhere understood and practiced. The returns would be enormous.